


Love over Flowers

by ShiDreamin



Series: You and I (Retainer Swap) [3]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, Post-Time Skip, Retainer Swap, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:53:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27544153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShiDreamin/pseuds/ShiDreamin
Summary: “Ah! You have red singers here!” The red birds turn to his voice, hopping from snow-topped branch to branch. Claude had never seen evergreens in person, the tree’s pointed shape often depicted with glowing brown eyes and a wicked smile in Almyran short stories. One of his favorites spoke about a series of frozen wonderlands far North of Almyra, where fairies hid in the flora and tickled the sky with their leaves, letting loose gentle puffs of snow with every cloud’s laughter. His mother had called the story foolish, but she had read it to him regardless.How would she react, he wondered, to know that Duscur is just as lovely as those books had said?-Claude and Dedue flirt endlessly on a forest exploration trip, to the delight of literally none of their companions.
Relationships: Dedue Molinaro/Claude von Riegan
Series: You and I (Retainer Swap) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1920106
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	Love over Flowers

Duscur doesn’t look anything like the Fodlan depictions.

Their mountains are not so many terrifying peaks as they are rolling green hills topped with a blanket of snow, patches of wildflowers that sprout by the dozens along the winding paths. The rivers here are gentle, lazy, nothing like the vivid descriptions of roaring rapids that supposedly carried away hundreds of Faerghus men during trade route negotiations. It is nature at her finest, and her calmest, simply allowing her occupants to thrive in their humble abodes.

To the average Fodlan man, the differences may be too much to take in.

Luckily, Claude is _anything_ but average.

“Ah! You have red singers here!” The red birds turn to his voice, hopping from snow-topped branch to branch. Claude had never seen evergreens in person, the tree’s pointed shape often depicted with glowing brown eyes and a wicked smile in Almyran short stories. One of his favorites spoke about a series of frozen wonderlands far North of Almyra, where fairies hid in the flora and tickled the sky with their leaves, letting loose gentle puffs of snow with every cloud’s laughter. His mother had called the story foolish, but she had read it to him regardless.

How would she react, he wondered, to know that Duscur is just as lovely as those books had said?

“We do. You’ll be less fond of them after waking to their songs in a few days.” Dedue’s voice is warm, a hand coming up to cup around Claude’s shoulder, tugging him from the trees. “The others are waiting for us.”

Right. Claude had left their supplies and traveling companions behind when he stumbled out of his tent this morning, seeing a crooked shadow that he could have sworn was a wyvern without legs—a rare mutation from an off breed of wyvern now extinct in Almyra due to overhunting. Animal protection had been one of many priorities in Claude’s campaign, and he had hoped to bring home something that may flourish under their sun.

Well, that’s the official reason why they’re visiting. The real reason?

“Thanks, honey,” Claude grins, kissing Dedue on the cheek. He’d like to do a little more, but their kind companions have already threatened to ditch them twice when they had the unfortunate timing of walking in rather late at night. But, hey! Claude warned them ahead of time. That something may happen. It was a total possibility. Might even be up to chance!

“Of course, starlight.” Scratch that. It’s completely Dedue’s fault that they got caught.

“Hey, you two! You better not be flirting again!”

Claude laughs, waving at their companions coming up over the hill. As he predicted, their inventory was left untouched, and it only took a matter of minutes to load up their horses for another day of traveling. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, its rays a gentle warmth against the otherwise chilly breeze. A good day to march.

A better day with Dedue’s cloak clasped around his neck, keeping him warm.

The trip is best traveled in silence, preserving water when they can. It’s not as though Duscur is limited with its resources, especially in comparison to Almyra, but purification spells take up valuable travel time. It isn’t until near midday, escaping from the rising heat by ducking beneath the shade of the cluster of evergreens, that Dedue breaks the silence.

“We should be careful. We should be nearing the spirit forest soon.” It’s almost perfectly on cue with their steps, their companions in the lead immediately stilling to turn, checking their surroundings.

“Spirit forest?” Claude echoes, his brows raised. He had heard tales of it after the Tragedy, where Duscur lands near the Fodlan bolder became unusable for crop or housing due to the spirits haunting the forests there, unable to move on. They say that the only flora that grows in the bloodied dirt is specked with poisonous rust dots, the last material ability of the ghosts who were unjustly murdered. The trees they walk aside here look rather green and perfectly healthy, not at all stained. “Are those real?”

“I believe so. It may be best that we go around.” That’s going to take a toll on their travel time then. Claude had planned for them to arrive by the twelfth day of travel, three days on wyvern from Almyra to Fodlan, then four on horses to Duscur’s edge, a day of rest, and the rest on horseback once more until they reach Duscur’s capital to speak to their commanding chief. Their travel time in Duscur has been pleasant, but long, the landscape’s switching terrains from fields to the river to forest slowing their horses at every interjection. They don’t have much time to waste.

Even so, Dedue glances at the trees with a wary eye. Their companions whisper amongst themselves, unraveling a map, their gazes darting towards Claude every other second.

“If Dedue says so,” Claude commands. “Then let’s take a detour.”

“Yes, sir!”

Walking around the trees doesn’t take much effort at all. They’re lucky to have passed most of the annoying rivers yesterday, facing mostly even ground today. When the sun hits its peak height, they’re even able to stop for a while, laughing and chatting about how far they’ve come under the shade, their horses snacking on the meadows. Dedue nearly chokes on his lunch when one of their companions jokes about how his horse never seems to stray from Claude’s. Like owner, like pet.

Dedue would follow him anywhere. Claude knows that he’s got the easy way out—the keys, the lock, the cage all in his pocket. There’s no one in all of Fodlan as fast as he is, and no one quite so capable of hiding in plain sight. If he wanted to be alone, he could be.

But he doesn’t want to, and it’s Dedue who swore that he never would be again.

It’s Dedue’s finger his ring is on.

“I wonder if it is right for me to allow you to do so much.” Oh? Claude blinks, owlish, as Dedue adjusts the straps on their horses, the sun off its highest point. They ought to get back on the road, then, if they’re going to make it in time.

They had sent the letter two moons in advance from Almyra. It probably helped that it was _Khalid_ and not Claude who signed it, a man who wore the names and the bloodlines of two kingdoms, neither of which had their hands dipped in the blood of those who destroyed Duscur. It had been a slim hope, honestly, to hear a response.

But they had one. A letter with a dried petal in it, of a flower only Dedue recognized from the time before.

“Of course I’m going to do at least this much,” Claude laughs, taking the reins from Dedue. He can get onto his horse by himself, yet Dedue lifts him up anyway. “Talking to nobles is _nothing_ to me now, c’mon, you know this.”

It’s meant to be lighthearted, cheery. They’re in Duscur, Dedue’s homeland, and it’s beautiful beyond Claude’s imagination. He had known, sure, that absolutely none of the Fodlan texts or depictions would be useful in any measure, but it had still taken him by surprise when he stumbled what seemed to be the perfect thawing winter wonderland.

Dedue, his eyes open with wonder when all they land on is _alive_ , even more gorgeous.

“It’s not that,” Dedue answers, eyes anywhere but Claude, and then they’re off.

Claude frowns, narrowing his eyes but keeping quiet. There isn’t a lot left in today’s itinerary to travel, mostly going down a trail that winds through frosted flower fields. It’s a pleasant view, one that Dedue would have stopped to admire and smell the flora on ordinary days.

He doesn’t say a word, head facing straight forward. Not even stilling when a red singer lands on his shoulder, a lovely tune from its beak. Claude considers himself a man of patience, of skill, and of utmost technique in pulling secrets from any jaw, but he’d like to just address the situation.

“What’s wrong?” Dedue turns to him, slow, his left cheek slightly puffed. He’s bothered, then, and knowing him Claude would bet he’s nearly gnawed a scar into the inside of his mouth.

Dedue’s horse comes to a slow first, realizing that her rider has come to a stop. Claude pulls his own into rear, waiting, watching the shadows of their companions begin to grow. It isn’t until their shadows tug away from Dedue’s that he speaks once more.

“Is this really not a bother?” His eyes flicker away again, straight, hands tightening on the reins. Claude narrows his eyes, tugging on his own until his horse stumbles a step closer to Dedue’s.

“Is what not a bother?” Claude prods. He has a feeling, a particular inkling, but.

Claude’s never enjoyed having words put into his mouth, and he’s certain Dedue feels the same.

“We’ve traveled far for an unlikely possibility.” Ah. So he was right.

Dedue’s correct, of course. The chance that Duscur’s chief will even want to speak with them, much less agree to sign a treaty that would open borders for international trading including Fodlan, is extremely unlikely. They’ve already spent not a small amount on this journey to begin with, and Claude’s chosen to prioritize it over the Dagdan meetings they delayed to the following moon.

“I’m satisfied already with knowing the country is flourishing. Continuing down this path… is it not a bother?”

It’s obvious to anyone with eyes who Claude prioritized it for.

“Of course not. _Dedue_. Look at me.” Claude snaps his reins tights in his hands, steadying them once more. If they’re not careful their companions will abandon them, but quite honestly, Claude finds that he can hardly care less when Dedue is looking at his surroundings as though they were a painting from Ignatz, beautiful in every way, but impossible to walk through. “I asked you if I could come, remember? I wouldn’t do that for no reason.”

“I told you,” he whispers, voice dropping. It is just them, it is always just _them_ , but he’s never had the courage to say these words loudly, and Dedue has always listened in the silence. “This is my dream. I want to create a world with no borders. There’s no one better to show me Duscur.”

Not a single person he can name who takes in Duscur like a man starved, who smiles at the like children welcoming him home from the war, who wears the scars of years of torment with not pride, nor hatred, but acceptance. Not a single person who coaxes out the sun from the clouds and the moon from the stars. Not a single one who had taken that dried out petal and cried.

“I’m sure that’s not true. Our companions—”

“They’re good, yes, but they’re not _you_. You’re the only person who walks by my side.”

Not a single person like Dedue.

Dedue stares at him, mouth slightly ajar before he recovers, coughing. He hasn’t picked up his reins again however, instead glancing between Claude and their companions now somewhere beyond the winding path. There’s the beginnings of that familiar glimmer in his eyes, the gentlest shine when he’s handling their gardens, and Claude grins, shoulders relaxing, elbowing him.

“Well?” Claude prompts.

“My apologies. In a moment of doubt, I’ve almost forgotten.” Dedue clears his throat, shifting closer, knocking their legs together.

“Forgotten?” Claude repeats, an eyebrow raised. “Forgotten what?” Dedue turns to him, wholly, and, though it is incredibly stupid to do this on not one but _two_ horses, leans forward to pull Claude into a gentle kiss.

“I’ve almost forgotten what an amazing speaker you are.” Dedue smiles, beautiful, lovely, the entire green and white fairytale wonder of Duscur secondhand to the crinkle in his eyes and the beginnings of laugh lines around his lips. He kisses Claude again, and again, peppering small pecks until Claude is certain that he is burning alive, face undoubtedly flushed. “Thank you, starlight.”

“Ah—that,” Claude’s tongue fails him now, absurdly warm for the climate, throat suddenly dry. Dedue’s smile only seems to grow, leaning in once to take Claude’s hand, raising it to his lips so that he may kiss the ring.

“I love you, Khalid.”

  
“Hey! Are you two flirting again? We have a schedule if you’ve forgotten!” They may well stop here and cook dinner on Claude’s face now, if Dedue’s got anything to say about it. Dedue releases his hand, finally picking up the reins once more.

“Sorry, we’ll catch up!” Dedue shouts, earning an assertion from their companions. The sound of hooves hitting the floor fills the air once more, though this time, Dedue takes in the views around him much more easily. There had been the spark of magic in the air ever since they’ve begun this journey, but it isn’t until Claude peers at him now, humming, that Dedue had taken the time to look at his surroundings as something other than a memory to engrave.

Dedue looks happy.

There’s nothing more Claude could ask for.

“Oh, I’ve almost forgotten one more thing.” Dedue startles, his hands twitching on his reins.

“Yeah? What?” Perhaps another spirit forest? Nothing that would throw them too off-schedule, hopefully.

“I forgot to mention how adorable you look in my cape.”

Oh, they’re going to make it on schedule just fine. Claude’s just going to have to die somewhere along the journey, and he’ll gladly blame Dedue on his gravestone.

**Author's Note:**

> CLAUDEDUE CLAUDEDUE CLAUDEDUE  
> wow what a good pair love this retainer series
> 
> This is the final fic in my mini-series! It's been a blast to make these and think about the what-ifs. And a happy ending! Oh, happy endings. Dedue only deserves good things.
> 
> Fun facts!  
> \- Claude trusts Dedue with his life in this AU, ever since he was shook that someone would pledge any loyalty to Almyra's hated half-prince. He's more truthful/honest since he actually has someone to call a friend!  
> \- Dimitri thinks the two are weird but fun to hang out with. He'd be closer to Claude/Dedue here than he normally would be to Claude/Hilda.  
> \- On the other hand, Hubert thinks they're suss. He's very unhappy about them getting along with his lord.  
> \- Edelgard considers it a "birds flock together" type of situation. She doesn't care for either of them, but she's very curious how a Duscar man ended up in Leichester.  
> \- Hilda thinks Dedue, Lysithea and Edelgard should be in one house. White hair people unite!
> 
> Judge my life choices on [ twitter ](https://twitter.com/shidreamin/)


End file.
